Like a Virgin
by NaiveEve
Summary: Gregory House's first time. Oneshot. Smut.


**Like a Virgin**

She must have been impressed by the way he had handled himself when Todd McKenzie threw him against the brick wall behind the science building.

_The pen is mightier than the sword._

He preferred to defend himself with words rather than actions. His mouth had talked him out of all manner of compromising scenarios.

He was blessed with an extraordinary frontal lobe - burgeoning with grey matter. Todd McKenzie had a big head, but he figured that its contents were composed almost entirely of white matter and enlarged ventricles. Or, maybe it had something to do with the crash tackling he endured every Friday night on the football field.

'Oh, just leave him alone,' she had called, as the thick-necked Neanderthal curled his fist into the collar of Greg House's shirt and pinned him against the wall.

Todd's beefy henchmen stood nearby, egging him on with half-witted comments.

'I think you should listen to your girlfriend,' House had said, trying to steady his breathing, 'but, you _could_ punch me again… you're certainly very good at it. Then you could let me slump to the floor and seek out another library-going nerd, give him a couple of bruises and move onto the next. You could keep going all day! In fact, it seems like a very effective tactic for you, I'm sure you'll keep it up well into your thirties – at which stage you might start to notice the dull throb in you fingers, the swollen, inflamed knuckles. Sure, it'll be a little inconvenient at first but every day the pain will become worse, until it wakes you in the middle of the night. Burning, excruciating – so bad your hands will be useless, completely defective. You won't even be able to wipe your own ass.'

'What the hell are you talkin' about man?' Todd demanded – the neurons in his few existent grey cells firing rapidly, obviously working overtime.

'Early onset arthritis,' House said calmly, matter-of-factly.

Todd narrowed his eyes and slowly released his grip, untwisting the collar of House's shirt.

He lifted his hand to his face, blocking the sunlight as he splayed his fingers before proceeding to clasp and unclasp his fist, casting shady patterns over his own face like a strange shadow-puppet show.

He looked back at House suspiciously, mildly aware that the boy had just bamboozled his way out of a good beating.

'Fuckin geek,' Todd said, hacking forth a mouthful of mucusy phlegm and delivering it in the centre of House's Nike sneaker.

'Thanks,' House said sarcastically, and Todd turned back to him, lurching forward abruptly to startle him.

For a moment, he had thought he had blown it, but Todd retreated, throwing his arm around her shoulder and laughing an obnoxious bellowing laugh.

She glanced back at him, over her shoulder, over the thick hairy arm weighing her down – directing her – forcing her forward.

She watched as he knelt and collected his books, coins, and other random belongings.

She with her perfect blonde bangs, peaches and cream skin and soft pout.

She was Fiona Kelly.

She was the queen bee. The high school princess.

She was his first.

**………**

The following day, after school, she found him sitting by himself at one of the tables in the courtyard.

'House,' she had called.

He looked up and squinted into the sun, barely making out her figure.

He recognized her voice though.

'Come here,' she had said.

He slammed his text shut, shoved it into his open backpack, and lifted his leg over the bench to join her under the shade of the awning.

He was attractive, in a nerdy sort of way. Young boyish face, fresh skin – not a line or crease. Funny pop-out eyes: stunning blue. Medium brown hair, thick and mattered. He was tall and lanky – way too tall. He could have been on the basketball team, but he had no interest in that.

When he stood by her side, she simply opened her mouth and pinched her gum between her fingers – removing it as a curtesy, hooked her arm around his neck and kissed him, smearing cheap, gluey pink gloss over his lips and the only thing he could think was: _I hope to god Todd isn't in close proximity._

This thought moved on quickly though, when he felt her wet minty tongue in his mouth.

'Wanna come back to my place?' she asked, raising a brow, 'my parents are out.'

**………**

'You can touch me,' she had said, smiling, taking his hand and placing it on her breast as she settled into his lap on the sofa.

He kept his hand in this place for a moment, furrowing his brow and squeezing ever so slightly until he decided that it seemed unnatural, and so he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt instead, pressing his palms flat on her stomach before allowing his fingers to travel around to the small of her back.

She seemed to approve, because she crossed her arms in front of her and lifted her shirt over her head, discarding it on the couch beside them.

Pink lace bra. Ample breasts heaving as she breathed. The bra seemed a little too small in fact, because her nipples were peering above the cups. Now he was keen to grope, and he did so almost subconsciously, letting his thumbs travel over the soft curves of her breasts.

She leaned in to kiss him again, and his hands moved to her back, fingers catching on the clasp of her bra. He wondered if he should flick it open, but decided it would be a little presumptuous and anyway, he was perfectly content with the erotic sensation of her tongue lapping at his.

She could obviously feel his erection pressing against the crotch of her jeans because she started to move against it, and the friction made him prickle all over – giving him goosebumps and raising the hair on the back of his neck. And when he heard the sound of the soft moans she was making and felt her hot breath in his ear, he thought he was going to lose it. It wasn't until she popped the button on her jeans, sat back, sent her hand down behind denim and lace and started touching herself, right there is his lap, gripping the arm of the green velveteen couch, tipping her head back and exposing her throat to him, gurgling and sighing in pleasure, that he _knew_ he was going to lose it.

'_Oh!_' he exclaimed, wide eyed and wide mouthed, horrified at the intensity of his arousal.

Prior to this encounter, the most aroused he had ever been was the time he had found a stack of _Playboy_ magazines in his father's garage and smuggled one up to his room. He had waited until he was alone in the house, and both of his parents had gone out, until he retrieved it from behind his bookcase, and sat on his bed with his pants at his ankles, poring over the images of men and woman connecting in ways that he had never even imagined while jerking himself off.

With Fiona in his lap, he knew he had to take control or the climax would arrive sooner than either of them had anticipated – leaving them both with semen soaked denim.

He dug his fingers into her tiny waist and lifted her, laying her down and slotting her in underneath him on the couch in one swift movement. He was relieved when her hands draped around his neck and the kissing resumed. He thought that should be safe. But then again, maybe not – so deep and slippery, so soft and wet: each clash and mesh of their tongues was sending the same tingle up his spine.

Her hands moved to his shoulders and she pushed him back, viewing his swollen red lips and dishevelled hair.

'Bedroom,' was all she said.

**………**

He was remembering the _heartfelt_ discussion of the birds and the bees that he had had with his father. His mother must have asked John House to give 'the talk.'

'The talk,' consisted of the delivery of one sentence: 'If you're gonna do it, wear a rubber…but don't do it.'

He had looked up from his book as he lay back on his bed reading and had felt something hit his head. A box of condoms sat in his lap.

**………**

Girly room. Pink, white, lace, cushions, stuffed toys, posters, photos of friends and family.

She opened a draw on her bedside table and placed a box of the same condoms on the surface of the table.

They must have been giving them out at the drugstore, he figured.

She loosened the remainder of the buttons on the fly of her jeans and lay back on the bed, lifting her hips to remove them completely, before sitting up, unclasping her bra and shrugging it off. She reached out to him, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and pulling him closer to the bed.

'Take your clothes off,' she said, smiling, raising herself to kneel in front of him, smoothing one of her hands over his chest and sending her other hand lower to grope his tenacious erection.

He wasted no time pulling his shirt off while she took care of his fly, sending his jeans down to pool at his ankles, and leaving him standing in his already slightly damp shorts.

**………**

Lying on the bed, he reached for the box she had placed on the side table and took one of the condoms. He immediately began fiddling with the packaging and his lack of dexterity in this task betrayed the fact that it was his first time. She smiled upon realising this.

'Slow down,' she said, touching his hand – stopping him.

Feeling mildly embarrassed, he had decided to distract her by feigning confidence, parting her legs and rolling her panties down her thighs.

He gasped quietly as she opened up to him. He made a thorough inspection, remembering his text book. Labia majora, labia minora, vulva, clitoris. It was _much_ different in the flesh. Colourful, beautiful.

'What are you doing down there?' she had laughed, 'you gonna become a doctor or something?'

He glanced at her before lowering his head. He had no idea what to do, but he doubted any of the quarterbacks on the football team did either. He was quite certain none of them would reap the benefits of having spent hours studying _Grey's Anatomy._ His assault was aimless at first, but he soon found his target. _The clitoris is the big deal right?_ he thought to himself.

'_Oh!'_ she had exclaimed as she arched off the bed.

_Yep. Right on target. _

With the way he worked his tongue, he had her doubting her initial hunch that he was a virgin.

His approach was straightforward really. The softest touch is the most pleasurable, he figured, so he licked her gently and it only took a moment before she was crying out like she had stubbed her toe and practically tearing strips of skin off his shoulders. When he raised his head to survey the damage, she was looking at him with an expression of shock and amazement, as if to say: _what the hell did you just do to me?_

He had realised that he had just given Fiona Kelly her first orgasm.

He figured that she was only used to bouncing in Todd's lap in the driver's seat of his pick-up truck for a good, ah, say… five minutes: just long enough for him to blow his load into her and shove her aside – leaving her disappointed and probably sore.

**………**

Stunned and liberated by her newfound sexuality, she had forced Gregory House onto his back, ripped his boxer-shorts from him and hovered above him on all fours staring with dark, ravenous eyes. She moved down his body, panting, hungry – greedy for more. She took his cock into her mouth and sucked hard, and he had to push her away to postpone his orgasm. She sat back on her haunches and reached for the condom he had uncovered earlier. He watched as she rolled it down, just the way they had been taught with bananas in sex ed.

She lifted her knee over him and sat in his lap and that was it – penetration, uncharted territory, one small step for man and all that.

His body felt hot and cold all at once – it tingled and throbbed and pulsed and buzzed and she hadn't even started to move yet.

But when she did, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and remember to breathe.

His hands splayed on her hips and after preparing himself, he opened his eyes to watch as she rode him, arching back and sitting down on him in ecstasy – the glorious sight of her breasts bouncing gently, her hair falling in her face, and her hands flat on his chest.

Somehow, he conjured the foresight to find her clit with his thumb – rubbing as she moved against him.

And then he felt it – the tightening around his cock. Gripping, grasping, holding – like a blissful type of strangulation. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him that he would actually _feel_ her orgasm, as apposed to just hearing her response to it.

And it happened.

Involuntarily, he pushed up into her as his climax hit. Pounding, crushing, smothering, awe-inspiring pleasure – one thousand times more intense than any orgasm he had given himself in the shower. The ultimate contradiction in bodily sensations. Sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems working in unison. He released a guttural moan as his body tensed violently – tensed and seized and rigidified before relaxing, loosening and gushing.

As she slumped forward, her hands on either side of his head, her arms straight – still holding herself above him, still holding him inside her, he allowed his head to roll to the side so that he could look out through the window.

The guy across the street was mowing his lawn. The kids next door were climbing all over their swing set. People were walking their dogs and greeting each other warmly in the street as if it was just another normal day.

It was _not_ just another normal day.

He looked up at her – flushed, flustered and fucked.

He had given Fiona Kelly her first orgasm.

He had given Fiona Kelly _two_ orgasms within fifteen minutes.

This was the day that Greg House realised that he possessed _yet another_ valuable skill.

He knew how to please a woman.


End file.
